tend.

_Duke_. Bring the presumptuous.

_Enter Constantine, and Euphrata, Otho following in disguise_.

_Euph_. Forward, _Constantine_, our Rites are done,
Thou art my husband, doe not feare his eye,
The worst it can import is but to die.

_Duke_. Base and degenerate.

_Euph_. He is a Gentleman,
'Twas base of you to wed a Curtizan.

_Mon_. Her brothers spirit right, bold and audacious.

_Euph_. When[210] I am no bastard, wherefore should I feare?
The knot is sacred, and I hold it deare;
I am wedded unto virtue, not to will,
Such blessed unions never bring forth ill.
If I offend, in disobedience,
Judge of the power of love by your offence.
Father, you have no reason for this ire;
Frowne whilst you kill us, desire is desire.

_Duke_. A Curtezan? hath that ambitious boy
Taught you such Rethoricke? you shall taste like joy.
I will not reason with you, words are vaine,
The fault is best discerned in the paine.
Your hastie marriage hath writ downe his death,
And thy proud words shall scale it with thy breath.
By what is dearest to mee, here I sweare,
Both of your heads, shall grace a fatall beere.
Take them to prison, Ile not heare a word,
This is the mercie that we will afford.
Since they are growne so proud, next morn begun,
Let them be both beheaded with my sonne.

_Con_. Short and sweet: _Euphrata_, the doome is faire,
We shall be soone in heaven, there ends my care.
I scorne entreatie, and, my deare, I know,
All such slavery thou hatest so,
'Twill be a famous deed for this good man
To kill all's children for a Curtezan.

_Euph_. Wilt thou die with me?

_Const_. Would I live in heaven?
Thou art now too high for me, death makes us even.

_Euph_. Looke to your dukedome: those that hast our fall
Have by their avarice almost hurried all.
There's a whole Register of the poores crie:
Whilst they are reading them, imbrace and die.

[_Flings downe her lap full of Petitions_.

[_Exeunt Euph. and Constant_.

_Duke_. Beare them away.--And now let's reade these Writes.
What's here? complaints against my worthy brothers
For corne transported, Copper money stampt,[211]
Our subjects goods ceaz'd, and I know not what.
A plague upon this busie-headed rabble!
We will have tortures made to awe the slaves;
Peace makes them ever proud and malapert,
They'l be an Overseer of the State.

_Valen_. And plead reformation to depose you.

_Duk_. True, my faire Dutchess